Cast Aside The Grind
by Zarius
Summary: A trying week has passed for Molly, but all she needs to elevate her mood is cast her mind to an even lousier week and a much needed phone call (spoilers for arguably the best scene in 4x03 "The Final Problem")


**SHERLOCK:**

 **CAST ASIDE THE GRIND**

 **WRITTEN BY ZARIUS**

 **(Contains Spoilers For "The Final Problem")**

* * *

 _It had been a trying week_ thought Molly Hooper as she waved goodbye to the technician that had been around all day at her home making repairs to her computer. It was a warm Sunday afternoon, quite unique for the winter period, the start of a fresh batch of days awaited her within twenty-four hours.

She couldn't wait for the week to begin anew, couldn't wait to write off the last five days she had gone through. She had been feeling under the weather with a severe migraine, she had been holding back a cold which threatened to keep her off work, she had been sick quite a few times already.

And to top it off, the grim reality of the grisly matter of death that awaited her at her job every day only furthered her frustration with life, making her feel it was less about love in the world and all about the ever persistent presence of loss.

She badly needed to be swept off her feet, to have the company of good friends and good spirits, to remind herself that there was progress to be made in this bleak and brash world she belonged to, and which she fortunately lacked the cowardly self-harming instincts to put behind her.

She went over to her freshly fixed computer and switched it on. Almost immediately the screen informed her it would have to configure her system updates, which only served to eat into more time she couldn't hope to spare. It frustrated her to no end.

It reached approximately fifteen percent before giving up and restarting. Molly checked the time on her clock and wondered whenever or not she would consider phoning in to work and letting them know she might just take the day off tomorrow, just to get the week off on a proper foot.

If she did that, she could make time for all the wonderful things she had thought of earlier, time with Rosie, time with John...and make time, in particular, for one other.

The Baker Street Boys had only just finished refitting their apartment following the devastating explosion that had levelled it. Hearing about that on the BBC News At Six had triggered the last resoundingly bleak week she had, and had driven her to distraction at her work all through particularly dreary day...until a phone call later in the afternoon of that day served to put her the healthiest kind of ringer she had ever emotionally endured.

A call that, regardless of the overall intent, she had badly needed, a means from which to transition herself fully from a social experiment plaything, and one that elevated her above deeply trusted yet still reluctantly tolerated friend.

Whatever had compelled the person on the opposite end of the phone that day to demand her deeply private and most channelled of feelings be brought forth from her lips, she wanted to make him _earn_ it, and reveal to himself the resounding emotional consequence of demanding too much from someone who, in their mind at least, had been made to feel so little over the years.

If, against all of her wishes and warnings, he was still eager to play the game, she would set the rules, she would force him to make a most sincere declaration. She would not give him what he wanted out of anything half-hearted.

He didn't make it easy, for her or himself, but he finally did as he was told.

When he uttered those three words to her, when she realized that he meant it, she gave him what he wanted. She willingly handed her pain over to him, to author in whatever fashion he deemed proper, and she left him to apply it to his case, to the world he was so well equipped to handle.

Whenever she had another lousy week like that, she thought back to that one precious moment in time, that call, that challenge, and the sincerity in the expression of the barely sentimental yet gallant knight answering the call, had filled her with the kind of enchantment one only reserved for childhood, or when watching a Disney movie with a child in their arms.

The weeks afterwards would prove to be just as tasking as she processed the information and emotions attached, but looking forward to all the days she could continue to answer his calls allowed her to cast aside the grind of all the hellish fires that had come about, threatening to engulf her.

She could feel how raw his pain was in that call, he could tell how raw she had been in her response, both were hurting that day, they could tangibly feel it, and through the expression of those three wonderful words, they both had reached out to the other, and found a fresh patch of soil.

When last they talked in the days that followed, she told him she'd come looking if he was ever as lost as she was that day, and that she would task herself with bringing him back around.

As her computer booted up at last and she began to work on her log of the previous week's events at her job, she head the distinct vocal chords of Stevie Wonder emit from her phone.

 _I just called to say I love you_

She swiftly get out of her chair and headed over to the mantelpiece, picking the phone up, to answer her call.

She read the text message aloud in her head, and all the worry and weariness of the week washed over her in a whimsical burst of ecstasy.

 _You know where to find me-SH._


End file.
